 | Philip |  |
SCENE THE THIRD.
Philip, Isabella, Carlos.Phi.
Perfidious wretch! that hour of death is come;
I bring it to thee.
Isa.
Are we thus betrayed?
Car.
I am prepared for death. Give it at once.
Phi.
Wretch, thou shalt die! but first, ye impious pair,
My fulminating accents hear, and tremble!
Impious pair! long, long, I've known it all.
That horrid flame that burns in you with love,
In me with fury, long has fix'd its torment,
And long been all discover'd! Oh, what pangs
Of rage repress'd! Oh, what resentment smother'd!
At last ye both are fallen in my power.
Should I lament? or deign to express regret?
No! I for vengeance thirsted! and I now
Will in illimitable vengeance revel,
Quick, unexampled vengeance! On your shame
Meanwhile I feast my eyes. Flagitious dame,
Think not I ever bore thee any love;
Nor that a jealous thought within my heart
E'er woke a pang. Philip could never deign
On a degraded bosom, such as thine,
To fix th'affections of his lofty nature;
Nor could a lady who deserved betray them.
Thou hast in me thy king offended, then,
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Hast thus, my consort's name, that sacred name,
Basely contaminated. I never prized
Thy love: but such inviolable duty
Thou should'st have felt towards thy lord and king,
As should have made thee e'en at a frail thought
Shudder with horror.—Thou, seducer vile,
To thee I speak not. Guilt becomes thy nature:
The deed was worthy of its impious author.
There wanted not indubitable proofs,
Although concealed your criminal regard.
Your silence, and your gestures, and the grief
Pent up alike in both your impious hearts,
I watched them all. Now what more shall I say?
Equal in crimes, your torments shall be equal.
Car.
What do I hear? There is no fault in her:
No fault? not e'en the shadow of a fault!
Pure is her heart, with such flagitious flame
It never burned, I swear. She scarcely knew
My love—the trespass then ...
Phi.
To what extent
Ye, each of you, are criminal, I know.
I know, as yet, that to thy father's bed
Thou hast not raised thy bold and impious thoughts.
Had it been otherwise, would'st thou now live?
But from thy impure mouth there issued accents,
Flagitious accents, of incestuous love.
She heard them: that suffices ...
Car.
I alone
Offended thee: I seek not to conceal it.
A rapid flash of hope athwart my sight
Shot—but her virtue instantly dispell'd it.
She heard me, but 'twas only to my shame:
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The illegitimate passion that it fostered ...
Yes, now, alas! too illegitimate ...
Yet it was once a lawful, noble passion:
She was my spouse betrothed—my spouse, thou know'st—
Thou gav'st her to me; and the gift was lawful,
But 'twas not lawful in thee to resume it.
Yes, I am criminal in every shape;
I love her: thou hast made that love a crime ...
What can'st thou now take from me? In my blood
Satiate thy wrath; and gratify in me
The exacerbation of thy jealous pride;
Spare her, for she is wholly innocent.
Phi.
She? Not to thee in guilt she yields, but boldness.—
Be silent, lady, of thine own accord.
That silence does sufficiently betray thee.
'Tis useless to deny it, thou dost cherish
An illegitimate passion. Thou betray'dst it—
Enough—too much betray'dst it, when I spoke,
With artful purposes, of him to thee:
Why then didst thou so pertinaciously
Remind me that he was my son? Oh, traitress,
Thou dared'st not, yet rather should'st have said,
He was thy lover. Hast thou less than he,
Dost thou imagine, in thy secret heart,
Betrayed thy duty, honour, and the laws?
Isa.
My silence from my fear does not arise;
But from the stupor that benumbs my senses
At the incredible duplicity
Of thy blood-thirsty, ravening heart. At length
My scatter'd senses I once more recover.
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I should atone, of being wife to thee.
Till now I've not offended thee. Till now,
In God's sight, in the prince's, I am guiltless.
Although within my breast ...
Car.
Pity for me
Inspires her words: ah, hear her not ...
Isa.
In vain
Thou triest to save me. Every word of thine
Is as a puncture, which exasperates
The wounds of his proud breast. The time is past
For palliatives. To shun his hated sight,
The torment of whose presence nought can equal,
Is now my only refuge. Were it given
To one that is a tyrant e'er to feel
The power of love, I would remind thee, king,
That thou at first didst form our mutual ties,
That, from my earliest years, my fondest thoughts,
My dearest hopes, were centred all in him;
With him I trusted to live blessed and blessing.
To love him then, at once, in me was virtue,
And to thy will submission. Who but thou
Made what was virtue guilt? Thou didst the deed.
Ties the most holy thou didst burst asunder,—
An easy task to one that's absolute.
But does the heart change thus? His image lay
Deeply engraven there. But instantly
That I became thy wife the flame was smothered.
And I depended afterwards on time,
And on my virtue, wholly to surmount it;
And, peradventure, more than e'en on these
Depended on thyself.
Phi.
I will then now,
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Do instantly: yes, in thy faithless blood
I'll quench the impure flame.
Isa.
Yes, to spill blood,
And, when that blood is spilled, to spill more blood,
Is thy most choice prerogative: but, oh!
Is it by a prerogative like this
Thou hopest to win me from him to thee?
To thee, as utterly unlike thy son,
As is, from virtue, vice? Thou hast been wont
To see me tremble; but I fear no more;
My illegitimate passion, for as such
My passion I accounted, I concealed:
Now shall it be without disguise proclaimed,
Since thy dark crimes have made it shew like virtue.
Phi.
He is worthy of thee; thou of him art worthy.
It now remains to prove, if, as in words,
Ye will be bold in death ...
| Philip | |